


Change Is As Good As A Holiday

by Vyxyn



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Eternal Sterek, He's also a terrible Alpha, I will fight you Jeff Davis, M/M, Stiles and Derek forever, The Stilinski Men are moving on, scott is a terrible friend, the sheriff's name is John
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-09-22 03:36:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17052365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vyxyn/pseuds/Vyxyn
Summary: The Stilinskis are selling up and leaving Beacon Hills.They say that change is as good as a holiday.





	1. For Sale

The brand new for sale sign stands proudly in the front yard of the Stilinski home. Hours before, the real estate agent placed the sign while the owners weren’t at home, drawing the neighbours attention.

 

Mrs Anderson next door stands on her porch with a sad smile on her face. Mr Johnson across the road stops weeding his yard to watch the agent pull the sign out of the trunk of her car. Tammy Gillies pauses walking her dog Henry to stare in astonishment as the sign is being hammered into the ground.

 

Not long after the sign is erected and the agent has driven off, Stiles Stilinski pulls the Jeep into the driveway almost knocking over the bins lined up along the side of the drive. He stumbles out of Roscoe and walks in shock to look at the sign. He covers his mouth with his hand, staring at the sign. His emotions are like a whirlwind, forcing tears to his eyes, and a giggle out his mouth.

 

Just as Stiles laughter erupts, his dad pulls into the driveway next to the Jeep. He gets out of the car to the sound of Stiles’ manic laughter. Concern rips through John as he strides over to his son, pulling him into a hug. “Are you ok son?”

 

Stiles nods into his father’s neck, squeezing his dad hard. 

 

“I’m just so relieved.” Stiles pulls away from the embrace, and cups his dads face, giving him an exaggerated kiss on the cheek. “So damn relieved.”

 

“Me too, son. Me too.”

 

Stiles claps his hands on John’s shoulders. “How about we get Chinese for dinner tonight? I’ll let you get all the good stuff. And I’ll even pay!”

 

“Sounds like a plan kiddo. Let’s go inside before the neighbours come out and ask a million questions.”

 

The Stilinskis grab their bags from their respective cars and enter the home, John going upstairs to have a shower, and Stiles to the takeout drawer to find the menu for the Chinese restaurant.

 

Stiles makes the call then gets out the plates and cutlery, setting the table as he does most nights he has dinner with his dad. He hears the shower switch off, and while Stiles is emptying out his and his dad’s lunch bags, his dad vacates the bathroom.

 

Stiles calls up to his dad, “Dinner will be here in about 20 minutes dad! The table is set, I’m going to have a quick shower too!”

 

“No worries son!”

 

Stiles bolts up the stairs and grabs his pyjamas and towel, going into the bathroom to shower. When he’s done, he puts the day's clothes in the dirty clothes hamper and hangs his towel over his door before clomping down the stairs to the sound of the front door closing.

 

John brings the food to the dining table while Stiles grabs a beer for his dad and a soda for himself. They share the task of opening up the containers, putting a spoon in each container. They then start piling the food on their plates and each other's, until their plates are sufficiently full.

 

John takes a pull of his beer while Stiles digs into the orange chicken. After putting down the beer bottle, he clears his throat and picks up his fork. “So how was school today?”

 

Stiles pauses with a fork full of fried rice. He puts it down gently to answer his dad’s question. “Uh, it was ok I guess.”

 

“Just ok? Scott talking to you yet?”

 

Stiles snorts. “No. He’s still in the ‘glaring at Stiles from across the room’ stage. He needs to get over himself.”

 

John shakes his head. “How does that make you feel?”

 

“Dad, you’re not my therapist.”

 

“Stiles …”

 

Stiles sighs deeply, as he starts to curl in on himself.

 

“It makes me feel like shit dad. I have stood by that asshole for years. YEARS. And every time a girl comes along I’m suddenly invisible. It happened with Allison, it happened with Kira, it’s happening with Malia. He’s sleeping with my ex-girlfriend for god’s sake, I thought there was a bro-code against that. And then what happened with the Nogis … with the fox demon, it feels like he’s blaming me for it. If you could see the look he gives me, it’s not just glaring, there’s hatred in his eyes. I can not wait to get out of this godforsaken town. I don’t deserve to be treated like a second-class citizen after what I’ve done for him, and for Beacon Hills. It’s not my fault dad. It’s not my fault!”

 

Stiles pushes his plate away while he tries to calm himself down. John gets up from his seat and pulls Stiles up from his own chair to pull him into a hug. Stiles breaks, sobbing into his dad’s shoulder, his own heaving with sorrow. John rubs Stiles back while he cries, letting his son release the pain that had built up for months. 

 

They are interrupted by a knock on the door. John manoeuvres Stiles back to his chair and goes to answer. Derek Hale is standing on the other side looking worried. 

 

“Is Stiles ok sir?”

 

John shakes his head. “Not at the moment son. Why don’t you come in and help us eat this Chinese food and we can all talk about it.”

 

Derek nods and walks in the house once John opens it wider to let him in. Stiles turns around in his chair to see who it is.

 

“Derek?”

 

“Hey, Stiles. You ok?”

 

Stiles shakes his head and turns back around to face the table. John enters the kitchen and grabs another plate and some cutlery for Derek, grabbing another beer on the way back. Derek takes a seat in between John and Stiles and watches as Stiles picks at his plate.

 

“Is Scott still being a dick?”

 

John almost snorts out the beer he was drinking, and Stiles smiles. “Yeah, he is.”

 

“Did you want me to talk to him?”

 

Stiles looks up at Derek to find the wolf’s face worried, his ample brow creased in concern.

 

“You’d do that for me?”

 

Derek’s cheeks flush. “Of course I would.”

 

John watches the exchange between his son and the werewolf, picking up his fork to continue eating. It’s almost like he’s not in the room, Derek and Stiles looking at each other like nothing else exists except them. 

 

Stiles reaches out towards Derek but hesitates, but Derek closes the gap between their hands, taking Stiles in his and squeezing gently. Stiles smiles wider, tears in his eyes again.

 

“I don’t want you to talk to him. I don’t deserve how he’s treated me, Derek. I don’t want to be his friend anymore. Thank you for offering though, it means the world.”

 

Derek’s smile in return is gentle, he gives a final squeeze before letting Stiles’ hand go and picking up his fork. Stiles does the same, but before he eats he takes a deep breath.

 

“I feel like Scott wants me to be his friend, but doesn’t want to be mine. I feel like I’m a time filler to him. And he just doesn’t get or want to get that it wasn’t ME that killed Allison. I had no control over what happened when I was possessed. He doesn’t get that I fought that demon EVERY DAMN DAY. I have to live with what happened EVERY DAMN DAY. I don’t want to have to try and fight for a friendship that’s so one-sided. I’m done. I’m so done.”

 

John smiles sadly at Stiles. “I know this sucks right now son, but I’m so damn proud of you.”

 

“You are?”

 

“I am. You’ve been to hell and back kid. You’ve got a strong head on your shoulders. You know it’s not your fault. You see the flaws in your relationship with Scott, and you are taking a proactive step to better your situation. Your mom would be proud too.”

 

“Oh, dad don’t say that I just stopped crying!”

 

The men chuckle around the table and quietly go about eating some food. Derek pauses. “I’m proud of you too.”

 

John tries not to laugh while Derek and Stiles have another moment. He continues eating, then gets up to get another beer for him and Derek, and another soda for Stiles, taking the empties away to the recycling. 

 

Sitting back down, he turns to Derek. “So Derek, you’ve obviously seen the for sale sign in the yard, what are your thoughts?”

 

Derek turns towards John. “What do you mean sir?”

 

“Please call me John, Derek. I mean, we’re selling the house and moving. What do you think about that?”

 

Derek pauses thoughtfully. “Well, I think it will be good for both of you to start somewhere new. I mean, I don’t know where you are off to, but I’m sure it will be better than here.”

 

Stiles clears his throat. “I got into MIT. We’re moving to Massachusetts. Dad has a job with the Boston Police Academy as a teacher. We’re looking at a place together halfway between both places.”

 

“Congratulations Stiles! That’s awesome news! And great news for you John. You’ll have normal work hours?”

 

“I will. I won’t know what to do with myself.”

 

“We’ll get to have dinner together most nights. And weekends too,” Stiles says with a massive smile.

 

“I can make up for all the time I’ve missed with you over the years son.” 

 

“No, dad. Don’t think of it like that. This is a chance for us to have a fresh start.”

 

John raises his beer bottle. “To fresh starts”.

 

Stiles raises his soda can, and Derek his beer bottle. “To fresh starts!”

 

The men take a swig of their drinks and then put them down, continuing on with their meals. Once they've finished their first plates, Derek and Stiles go for seconds, while John sits back in his chair and nurses the last of his beer.

 

John turns to Derek. “So what about you Derek? What are your plans?”

 

Stiles chokes on a mouthful of rice, Derek reaches over and pats him on the back while he tries to think of a response. Once Stiles calms down, Derek answers the Sheriff.

 

“I’m not sure, to be honest. I’m not a part of Scott’s pack, I don’t think I’ll ever be. I kind of have family here” - Stiles snorts - “but it’s not the kind of family I’d stick around for.”

 

Stiles pushes a few carrots around his plate. “Do you think you’d go stay with Cora?”

 

“I don’t really have any interest in living in South America. I’ll go visit her of course, but I don’t want to stay there. Her pack is … different I guess. Not for me though.”

 

John drains the last of his beer, putting the empty bottle on the bench behind him, and leaning his arms the dining table. “Well, Derek you are more than welcome to join us in Boston.”

 

Stiles' mouth drops open exposing his half-chewed food to his table mates. Derek also looks stunned. John continues. “You deserve a fresh start just as much as Stiles and I do, son. We’ve been looking at some places to live, we’d have plenty of room for you. Whatever you want to do it’s up to you but you are more than welcome to come with us. What do you think Stiles?”

 

Stiles shuts his mouth with an audible click and hurries to finish chewing his food. He swallows quickly and turns to Derek. “I agree with Dad. You’d be more than welcome to come with us. And besides, I’d miss you if you stayed behind.”

 

Derek looks at Stiles in awe. “You’d really want me to come with you?”

 

“Of course Derek, why wouldn’t we? I mean, dad wouldn’t have invited you if he didn’t mean it. And I wouldn’t have said I’d miss you if I didn’t mean it.”

 

John pipes up. “Stiles is right son. Us Stilinskis don’t bullshit.”

 

Derek sits back in his chair in stunned silence. His heart is rabbiting in his chest and the hope blossoming in his soul.

 

“I don’t know what to say.”

 

“Take some time to think about it son. We still have our house to sell, and a house in Boston to find. Stiles still has school to finish, and I have work. Still plenty of time.”

 

“Thank you, John. I will definitely think about it.”

 

“That’s all we can ask for. Stiles let’s clear up this table and then sit in front of the tv and watch something mindless. We’ve had a big day. You are more than welcome to stay Derek.”

 

“I’d like that thanks.”


	2. Scott Finds Out

The following Monday, Stiles is taking out first lesson's textbooks when he gets slammed into the lockers from behind. Stiles turns around quickly ready to deck whoever pushed him when the shock turns into pure anger.

 

“What the fuck do you think you're doing Scott?”

 

Scott is furious, nose flaring in rage as he stares down Stiles. “When were you going to tell me? Huh? Why did I have to find out you were moving from one of Deaton’s clients?”

 

Stiles scoffs. “Really Scott? You think after all the shit you’ve put me through over the last few months, hell, after the last few years, that you have ANY right to firstly, yell at me over this, and secondly, even know about us moving. You’ve been shooting daggers at me since Allison died. You have shoulder checked me in the hallway, you’ve stared at me until I notice and then you deliberately turn your back on me. You’ve ignored phone calls, text messages, me showing up to your house. After the way you’ve treated me, why the fuck do you think you even deserve to know?”

 

“I thought we were friends Stiles.”

 

“Yeah, I thought we were friends too Scott. But instead of talking to me like a big boy, you took to behaving like a mean girl. Look, I don’t want to have this discussion here. Come over after school. We need to have this out before I leave.”

 

“I can’t. I was thinking of asking Malia to go to the movies with me this afternoon.”

 

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Ah, the patented McCall special. Making plans with a girl and ditching his friend. I asked you first dude, long before you’ve made plans with Malia. You know, you have no right to be upset with me right now Scott. Once again you are showing that you getting laid is more important than talking to me about our problems. So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to leave it up to you. Come by the house at 4 pm. If you are there, great, we’ll talk. But if you choose to once again push me aside for a girl, not even give me an hour of your time, then I’m completely done.”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“It means you and I aren’t friends. It means I’ve finally 100% decided that I’m not going to sit around and wait for you to make me some kind of priority. I don’t deserve this Scott. So either be at my place at 4 pm or don’t be. Whatever. Now I have to get to class.”

 

Stiles picks up the textbook he dropped when he was pushed into the lockers and made his way off to class. 

 

At lunchtime, Stiles expects to be glared at from across the cafeteria, but Scott is nowhere to be seen. Neither is Malia. Stiles shrugs and continues to eat his lunch, enjoying not feeling uneasy. As the rest of the day goes on, he realises that he hasn’t seen Scott since their run in that morning.

 

He carries on with the rest of his day, not seeing Scott or any of his betas anywhere in the school. He shrugs and walks out to the Jeep to make his way home. 

 

Before starting the car and backing out of his parking spot, Stiles sends a message off to Derek.

 

**Hey Derek, are you doing anything? Can you come round?**

 

Stiles starts Roscoe and exits the parking lot. Five minutes later his phone buzzes with a message that he asks Siri to read.

 

**_Everything ok?_ **

 

Stiles dictates his reply to Siri.

 

**Had a run in with Scott today. Have you seen him?**

 

Not long after he’s getting Siri to read Derek’s reply.

 

**_Haven’t seen him. Will come over now._ **

 

**Thanks, Derek.**

 

Stiles smiles to himself, pleased that Derek was so responsive, and happy that he gets to see the wolf.

 

He’s pulling into the driveway as Derek is pulling up alongside the curb. Derek gets to Stiles’ car door and opens it before the teenager is ready, startling him into flailing and almost falling out of the Jeep.

 

“Sourwolf! Stop doing that to me!”

 

Derek smiles at Stiles with sharp teeth and bright blue eyes. “Where would be the fun in that?” he slurs around his teeth.

 

Stiles grabs his backpack from the passenger seat and shoves it in Derek’s arms. “You get to carry my bag for that Derek. It’s only fair.”

 

Derek snorts in response but carries Stiles bag inside anyway, closing the front door behind him. He places the bag at the bottom of the stairs, then follows Stiles into the kitchen. 

 

Stiles pulls out two sodas from the fridge, one of which he hands to Derek, the other he cracks open and takes a few long draws of. Derek pauses with his soda can almost to his lips, watching the bobbing of Stiles’ Adams’ apple as he swallows.

 

Putting the can down on the bench, Stiles looks at Derek in concern. “You ok dude?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“You ok? You seem to have spaced out there a bit.”

 

Derek takes a tiny sip and puts the can down. “Oh. Um. I was just thinking about what could have happened with you and Scott this morning is all.”

 

Stiles just raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything, knowing full well Derek lied through his fangs.

 

“Well, I was getting my books this morning, and imagine my surprise when Scott McCall pushed me face first into my locker.”

 

Derek’s eyes flash blue, and his claws lengthen, piecing the soda can in his right hand. “He did WHAT?”

 

“He pushed me into my locker. Had a go at me because I didn’t tell him dad and I are moving. Even after everything, the dumbass thinks I owe him an explanation. Anyway, I ended the conversation before it could get out of hand, and told him to meet me here at 4 pm. He promptly told me that he was thinking about taking Malia out to the movies.”

 

“He’s picked a chick over you again?”

 

“I said practically the same thing to him. Anyway, I’m not really expecting him to show up, but I wanted you here in case he says he came over here but I wasn’t home or some other bullshit story. I don’t really trust him right now.”

 

“And if he does turn up, I can be your back up.”

 

Stiles smiles wide. “Exactly! You’re much smarter than you look.”

 

“I’m much smarter than you look too.”

 

Stiles erupts into laughter just as his dad comes through the door.

 

“What’s so funny you two? Good to see you again Derek.”

 

“You too John.”

 

Stiles gestures towards Derek with a flourish. “Derek here was being a comedian. He thinks he’s funny.”

 

John shakes his head with a chuckle. “You two are ridiculous. You staying for dinner Derek?”

 

Derek looks surprised at the dinner invite. “Um, sure. That would be nice.”

 

John claps Derek on the shoulder. “You’ve come on a good night. Meatball Monday.”

 

Derek tilts his head in confusion. Stiles laughs. “You look like a puppy when you do that. I’m making spaghetti and meatballs. It was mom’s recipe.”

 

“Sounds good. Is there anything I can help with?”

 

Stiles shrugs. “Sure. I can find something for you to do. But um. Dad, before you go upstairs to get changed, there’s a possibility Scott is going to drop around. We had a bit of a fight at school today, and instead of it escalating, I suggested we talk it out here. It’s why I called Derek for backup.”

 

“You had a fight?”

 

Derek crosses his arms across his chest and glares at Stiles. “Scott pushed Stiles into his locker.”

 

“HE DID WHAT??”

 

Just as Stiles goes to answer his father, there is a knock at the door. Derek sneers. “Speak of the devil.”

 

Stiles startles. “Holy fuckballs he showed up!” 

 

John glares at Stiles in response to his foul language and strides over to the front door. The Sheriff flings the door open so fast Scott startles.

 

“Oh Hi Sheriff! Is Stiles home?”

 

John places his hands on his gun belt, his right hand directly over his service revolver. “I don’t know yet if you’re welcome here Scott. Should I be arresting you for assault?”

 

Scott looks at the Sheriff in confusion. “Why would you be arresting me? I haven’t done anything!”

 

“Did you, or did you not, push Stiles into his locker this morning.”

 

Scott goes to defend himself but stills. “Yeah I did, but it wasn’t that hard, and I didn’t hurt him.”

 

“So you’re saying that it’s ok to push kids into their lockers without their consent if it doesn’t actually hurt them?”

 

“Well, I don’t think anyone would consent to being pushed into a locker.”

 

John stares at Scott until the realisation slowly dawns on Scott’s face. “Oh yeah.”

 

John rolls his eyes. “Come in Scott. Stiles said you were coming. You’ll understand that I’ll want to stay here for this conversation after what happened this morning.”

 

Scott just nods and accepts the invitation to come inside. He stops when he sees Derek.

 

“What HE doing here?”

 

Stiles comes around from behind the kitchen counter. “I invited him, Scott.”

 

“Why?”

 

Stiles looks at Derek like Scott just told him he believes the earth is flat. “Because I did. You don’t need any other explanation than that.”

 

“Right.”

 

Stiles stands next to Derek and crosses his arms across his chest as Derek has. “So Scott, have you come to apologise?”

 

“Why would I be apologising? You’re the one who didn’t tell me you were moving.”

 

Stiles’ jaw drops. He snaps it closed just as quickly. Taking a step towards Scott, his face contorts in anger. “As I said this morning, you’ve been avoiding me. Ignoring me. Glaring at me. Why on earth would I tell you I was moving, when you gave no indication of actually giving a shit? Why would I tell you a god-damned thing when you have made it clear time and time again that anything happening in my life is no way near as important as what’s happening in yours?”

 

“That's unfair Stiles.”

 

“Is it? How is unfair to you oh mighty alpha? Are you getting blamed for things that you had no literal control over?”

 

“You’re not completely innocent here Stiles. I’m not the one who allowed myself to get possessed by the Nogitsune, that was you.”

 

Stiles takes another step towards Scott and narrows his eyes. “What the fuck did you just say?”

 

“You heard me.”

 

Stiles nods. “You’re right. I did.” 

 

Stiles balls up a fist and punches Scott in the nose once, then rears back and punches him again, breaking the cartilage in Scott’s nose and sending blood shooting out his nostrils. The break heals quickly, but Scott’s nose is now crooked like his jaw, and blood is slowly dripping off his chin.

 

Stiles sneers at Scott. “Fuck you, McCall. I didn’t allow the Nogitsune in. You seem to conveniently forget about what you, me, and Allison had to do after the Darach. You forget that all three of us had the doors to our mind left open. I fought that fucker with everything I could. You have no idea what’s it’s like to have no control over your body, watching from the inside as an evil spirit uses your body as it sees fit. I was a victim just like Allison was. You also seem to forget that it was your fucking ex-girlfriend’s mother that introduced the Nogitsune to the world. Not me Scott. Noshiko. And now they’ve fucked off to who knows where leaving a trail of destruction. You sure can pick em, bucko!”

 

“Well, whose fault was the Darach? Hmmm? Blue eyes over there brought her into the picture. That wasn’t me Stiles.”

 

“It wasn’t Derek’s fault either you dumbass, and don’t you dare bring him into this. This isn’t about Derek, this is about you being a shitty-ass friend. Clearly, we aren’t going to get anywhere. You want to be able to get away with blaming me for everything so that your conscience is clear. You know what Scott? You can fuck right off. I meant what I said this morning, I’m done. You may have shown up when I asked you to, but after having the entire day to think about the situation, because don’t think I didn’t notice that you and your mini brats weren’t at school for the rest of the day, you had the entire day to think about it, and you STILL blame me for everything.”

 

Derek comes up behind Stiles and puts his hand on the man’s lower back. Stiles relaxes at the touch, and Scott stiffens in response. He goes to say something but stops himself. Scott looks at Stiles, then at Derek, then turns to John.

 

“Are you going to do anything about what Stiles just did?” Scott gestures towards his face.

 

John sadly shakes his head. “After everything you two have been through, I can’t believe you’d treat Stiles like this. You aren’t the kid I thought you were Scott. It’s time for you to leave.”

 

Scott nods, and with one final glance towards Stiles, he leaves the Stilinski home for the last time, shutting the door behind him.

 

Stiles gasps and crumples to the floor, sobs wracking his body.


	3. Helping Hand

Derek drops to the floor next to Stiles and pulls him into his side, holding Stiles while he cries.

 

John gingerly crouches in front of them, rubbing a hand over Stiles’ head.

 

“You did good kid, I’m proud of you.”

 

Stiles is in no position to respond yet, his despair rolling off him in waves. John stands up, joints cracking as he reaches full height.

 

“I’m going to go have a shower and get started on dinner. You ok with looking after Stiles?”

 

Derek doesn’t get a chance to answer as Stiles jolts and tries to stand. “No. No dad, I’m making dinner. I need to. You know cooking helps me.”

 

John nods and makes his way to the stairs. “Whenever you’re ready kiddo, there’s no hurry.”

 

Stiles falls against Derek and turns his face into the man’s chest. “It’s weird. I feel so light but so heavy at the same time.”

 

Derek rubs Stiles back. “I know. You’ll feel more and more light as time passes. And you’re moving soon and starting a new chapter of your life. Plus I know you were worried about leaving your dad back here, and he’s going with you. Everything’s coming up Milhouse.”

 

Stiles slowly raises his head from Derek’s chest. “Did you just make a Simpsons reference?”

 

“I did.”

 

“I am both shocked and awed.”

 

Derek smiles, knocking his shoulder against the younger man's. “Did you want to get a start on dinner? Or did you want to just sit a while longer? It’s not even 5 pm yet.”

 

“Let’s sit, but on the sofa. The floor is hard.”

 

Derek gets up first, reaching a hand out to Stiles to help him up. Stiles smiles shyly and takes Derek’s hand. He gets pulled up quickly, bouncing off Derek’s chest almost landing back on the floor. Stiles rubs his own chest and whispers an “ow” before walking over to sit next to Derek on the sofa.

 

Stiles leans up against Derek, resting his head on Derek’s shoulder, Derek then resting his head onto of Stiles’. The sit there quietly, listening to the sound of the water running from John’s shower. 

 

Derek puts his hand palm up on Stiles’ knee. Stiles looks at Derek’s hand, his heart skipping in his chest when he realises what Derek is suggesting. He joins his hand with Derek’s, folding their fingers together.

 

Derek hears the shower shut off but makes no effort to move, comfortable on the sofa with Stiles. It’s not until the clean Sheriff comes down the stairs and sits in the chair opposite that Stiles sits up. He smiles at his dad. “I’ll get started on dinner now.” 

 

Stiles unravels himself from Derek and gets up from the sofa, patting Derek’s head on the way to the kitchen.

 

Derek rolls his eyes at the Sheriff, who snorts in response. “That’s my son for you.”

 

Derek chuckles. “Yeah, always with the dog jokes.”

 

“He doesn’t mean anything by it son.”

 

Derek’s heart seizes at the term of endearment, his eyes threatening to flood with tears. He swallows hard, willing the emotion to bubble back down so he can answer the Sheriff. “I know he doesn’t.”

 

John looks contemplatively at Derek. “I know you can’t get the buzz of alcohol, but do you like whiskey?”

 

Derek nods. “I do. Where do you keep it? I can get you a glass.”

 

John smiles. “Thank you, son. I take it neat. The bottle is in the cupboard to the right of the sink. Glasses are in the cupboard above. If you want ice, there is plenty in the freezer.”

 

Derek gets up from the sofa and goes into the kitchen to see Stiles with tears streaming down his face. Derek rushes to the younger man.

 

“Are you ok?”

 

Stiles nods swiftly. “Yep! It’s the onions!!”

 

The scent of the onions hits Derek in a wave, so he pulls his shirt over his nose. He gets the whiskey out of the cupboard while his eyes are stinging, the glasses follow. He stops at the freezer to get some ice for himself, then hurries back into the lounge room.

John laughs as Derek pours out the whiskey, three fingers in each tumbler all the while covering his nose and mouth with his shirt.

 

“Onions?”

 

Derek can only nod as he puts the tumbler in front of the Sheriff. He holds his shirt against his eyes until the burning goes away. The white of his eyes are red for a time but quickly heal. Picking up his glass of whiskey, Derek swirls the glass allowing the aroma to rise. He places his nose at the edge of the glass and breathes in deeply, the rich woody scent removing the pungent odour of the onion coating his nose.

 

Derek sits back in relief. He takes a small sip and enjoys the warmth that floods his body. He closes his eyes and lets the flavour dance on his tongue. When he opens his eyes, John is watching him in amusement.

 

“That good huh?”

 

“Yeah. No more onion smell.”

 

The men sit in companionable silence while they enjoy their drink. They can hear Stiles pottering around in the kitchen, the smell of cooked tomatoes and garlic wafting into the lounge room.

 

Derek puts his glass on the coffee table and leans back into the sofa. “How're the moving plans going?”

 

“Well the real estate’s website has been updated with the listing, however, the agent gave me a list of things that really need to be done before we settle.”

 

Leaning forward, Derek rests his elbows on his knees and tilts his head before asking, “What needs to be done?”

 

John sighs. “Well, the steps out the back need to be fixed. Part of the back fence needs to be replaced, as well as some of the roof tiles under Stiles window. And the entire house needs a paint job. Inside and out.”

 

Derek winces at the mention of the roof outside of Stiles’ window. “I can help you with all of that John.”

 

“I can’t ask you to do that Derek.”

 

Stiles pipes up from the kitchen. “Why not dad? It’s not like he has a job!”

 

“ Mieczysław Stilinski. We do not speak of guests that way.”

 

“Sorry, Derek!”

 

With a shake of his head, Derek accepts the apology. “I meant it though. And anyway, Stiles is right. I don’t have a job, I have handyman experience, and I enjoy working with my hands. I’d be doing you a favour and you’d be doing one for me.”

 

“Well you get a list of what we need, and I’ll give the money for it.”

 

Derek shakes his head. “No, I’ll pay for it. I’m pretty sure I’m the reason for the roof and the back fence, so please let me pay.”

 

John raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth to address what Derek said, but he chooses to nod his acceptance and take another sip of whiskey.

 

Stiles comes in from the kitchen with a glass of water, and plonks himself next to Derek on the sofa. “So what are we talking about in here?”

 

“Derek here is going to help out by fixing up the place because he feels guilty for damaging the roof from climbing through your window.”

 

Stiles chokes on his soda, and Derek flushes red. John starts laughing. “It’s ok Derek. I’m not upset.”

 

“Dad that’s so mean!”

 

Derek puts a hand out to stop Stiles. “It’s ok. I did tell him it was my fault. And the fence.”

 

“Yeah but still.”

 

Derek takes Stiles’ hand and squeezes. “It’s ok Stiles, I promise.”

 

Stiles nods, trying not to focus on the warmth coming from Derek’s hand. “Dinner will be ready in about 10 minutes. Meatballs are simmering, pasta is cooking, salad is made, and the garlic bread is in the oven.”

 

John hums. “It smells good already son. Thank you. You’re in for a treat Derek. Claudia Stilinski’s meatballs are a thing of beauty.”

 

“So is Stiles Stilinski’s healthy salad!”

 

John groans. “I’m sure it’s delightful son.”

 

The men chit chat until the timer goes off, and Stiles gets up to get the meal on the table. Derek gets up as well and asks whether he can set the table, Stiles pointing out the cupboards where everything lives.

 

John comes and sits at the head of the table. Derek brings in the salad and garlic bread, and Stiles follows behind with the spaghetti and meatballs. They fill up their plates and begin to eat, Derek moans as the flavours hit his tongue. He shoves another mouthful in just as Stiles asks whether he’s enjoying it.

 

“OhmegherditssoGOOD.”

 

Stiles smiles widely and looks at his dad who nods his agreeance. They continue to eat heartily, even the Sheriff with the salad. There’s enough left after they’re done for lunch for John tomorrow, so Stiles packs it away in a container and puts it in the fridge. 

 

John gets up from his chair and claps Stiles on the shoulder. “That was incredible son. Even the salad.”

 

“Thanks, dad.”

 

“You go make yourself comfortable. Derek and I will wash up.”

 

“Dad! Derek’s a guest!”

 

“That is true, but I have a couple of things I need to discuss with him first. Nothing to worry about son, just house stuff.”

 

Stiles looks between Derek and his dad and nods. “I’m going to have a quick shower I think.”

 

Stiles sprints up the stairs tripping on the top step and letting out a curse. John and Derek chuckle, as they get to dealing with the dirty dishes.

 

Derek washes the dishes while John dries and puts away. They get into a rhythm of washing and drying, with the dried cutlery and crockery going back where they were taken from. Derek takes a breath before dunking a dirty plate in the soapy water.

 

“I meant what I said before. I’m happy to do all the handyman stuff. I’ll come round in the morning if that’s ok and look at what needs doing, and could probably get started tomorrow if the hardware store has everything I need.”

 

John puts the now dry glass in the cupboard before responding. “That would be great Derek. Really. To be honest with you, I wasn’t looking forward to trying to work out when either Stiles or I could find the time to get this done. It really takes a load off my shoulders having you do this. If there is anything I can ever do for you Derek, you let me know.”

 

Derek is stunned, half-washed plate dangling above the water. Putting the plate gently in the water, Derek turns toward John. “You’ve done more for me than you know John. Stiles too. Since my family died, I haven’t really felt like I belong anyway. I feel welcome here. So thank you.”

 

John claps Derek on the shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “You are always welcome here son. Always.”

 

They finish up the dishes just as Stiles is walking down the stairs in his pyjamas. Derek quickly wipes down the kitchen bench tops and rinses out the cloth before setting it over the faucet. He turns around to see Stiles smiling at him.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing. Well, you just look so comfortable in the kitchen. It’s good.”

 

Derek returns the smile. “I was just telling your dad I feel welcome here.”

 

“Good. Because you are.”

 

Derek’s smile brightens, and Stiles can’t help but mimic, his own smile widening in response. Both men get shy, Derek ducking his head, and Stiles’ cheeks blushing pink.

 

“Oh um. When I was getting dressed, I thought maybe it would be easier if you had your own key? That way you can come and go as you please. You know, without coming through my window?”

 

Derek growls, putting his hand out for the key. Stiles places the key on Derek’s palm with a laugh, grabbing the wolf’s wrist and tugging Derek to the lounge room.

 

“Hey daddio, I gave Derek a key, hope that’s cool?”

 

“Good thinking Stiles. Feel free to come and go Derek.”

 

“That’s what I said!”

 

Derek snorts. “Great minds.”

 

Stiles pushes Derek as they sit on the sofa, Derek laughing and pushing back sending Stiles into the arm of the sofa.

 

" Hey watch it! Fragile human here!”

 

John laughs. “I think Derek will agree with me when I say you are anything but fragile son.”

 

Derek nods fervently while Stiles gasps. “HEY. Don’t you be ganging up on me!”

 

Derek laughs along with John while Stiles grumbles, reaching for the remote to change the channel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo.
> 
> It's been a while! There's been Christmas and New Years, and work has picked up and I'm sorry.
> 
> But things are starting to even out, and I'll have more time to write :)
> 
> Thanks for all your support so far on this fic, I really appreciate it!


	4. The Next Day (Part One) - The McCall House

Scott sits at the counter in the kitchen, staring into a half-eaten bowl of cereal. Behind him his mother Melissa enters the house after her night shift at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital.

 

Coming up behind her son, she kisses him on the forehead before unloading her bag.

 

“Why so glum kiddo?”

 

Scott sighs. “Stiles and I aren’t friends anymore. We had a big fight yesterday. And what’s worse is that the Stilinski’s are moving and Stiles didn’t even tell me!! I just don’t know who he is anymore.”

 

Melissa raises an eyebrow and waits. Scott finally looks up from his cereal to see a mildly annoyed mother staring back at him. “What??”

 

“Scott, I’ve said this to you before, and I can’t believe I’m having to repeat myself AGAIN. But kiddo, you keep putting your girlfriends and the betas before Stiles. I get that you think you’re in love with these girls and that having a girlfriend feels good, but you’ve known Stiles since you were kids. How many more times do you expect him to just wait around for you to realise he’s there?”

 

“But he always said it was ok when I told him I was meeting Allison or Kira. If it wasn’t ok he should have said something.”

 

Melissa rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “You really don’t know Stiles at all do you. He just wants to see you happy Scott. He’s not going to upset you by saying no you can’t see your girlfriend. It’s your responsibility to make sure you give equal time to your best friend and your girlfriend. It’s not Stiles’ responsibility to absolve you of the guilt from ditching him repeatedly for who you're dating.”

 

Scott narrows his eyes. “Whose side are you on mom?”

 

“This isn’t about sides Scott, this is about trying to make you aware of how your behaviour affects those around you. How long did you honestly expect him to wait for you? Stiles needed you after the Nogitsune, Scott. And where were you? Blaming him for Allison’s death. Don’t think I don’t know how you’ve been treating Stiles lately, I am friends with his father remember. I’ve got to say I’m incredibly disappointed in you. You’ve got no one to blame but yourself on this, and I don’t blame Stiles for ending it.”

 

Scott looks at his mother in shock. “So you’re taking Stiles side? But you’re MY MOM. You should be on MY SIDE.”

 

“Again, this isn’t about sides, but I’m not going to support you pushing Stiles into lockers, shoulder checking him in the hallways, and glaring at him from across the room. The Sheriff told me everything. You’ve been behaving like a brat, and it’s shameful. You’re the Alpha of a werewolf pack, so act like one. Not only that, but you’ll be graduating high school soon. You’re almost 18. Start treating people how you want to be treated, with dignity and respect. Your behaviour has been unacceptable Scott. You had the opportunity yesterday to apologise, and instead, you made it worse.”

 

Scott slumps in his seat. “So what do I do now?”

 

“Respect Stiles’ decision, but so help me, Scott, if I hear that you are still behaving like a brat, I’m going to send you to live with your abuela.”

 

Scott’s eyes widen in fear. “You wouldn’t.”

 

“I would. I may not be able to get through to you, but your abuela would. I think you need to sit back, take a look at the last few months and look at your behaviour. Then flip it. Think about how you would feel if it were Stiles treating you this way. How would you feel if Stiles avoided you? How would you feel if you were possessed by a demon and couldn’t control it, yet Stiles blamed you? I don’t blame Stiles for wanting to leave, or John. They both deserve better.”

 

Scott slumps in his seat. “How long have you known they were moving?”

 

“John told me about a month ago. After he had met with the real estate.”

 

“You knew? And you didn’t tell me?”

 

“It’s not my news to tell kiddo. I know I’ve been harsh today, but I’ve got one more thing to say. Pull your head out of your ass, and realise the world doesn't revolve around you. I love you to death, but you’re priorities are skewed. You’ve lost one friendship. You’ve lost the admiration of a man who looked at you as a son. DO BETTER. I know you can. And just maybe, by the time the Stilinski’s leave Beacon Hills, you and Stiles can be on better terms, maybe not friends, but maybe at a point where Stiles would consider friendship in the future.”

 

Scott’s eyes have filled with tears. He nods slowly, pushing the half-finished bowl of soggy cereal away. 

 

“Do you mind if I stay home from school today mom? My heads not really in it.”

 

“Just today Scott. I meant what I said. Really think about it all ok?”

 

Scott screws up his face. Melissa sighs.

 

“What now.”

 

“When I went over to Stiles’ place last night, Derek was there. The house reeked of Derek. I don’t like it.”

 

“Stiles relationship with Derek is none of your business Scott.”

 

“Relationship? What relationship? They aren’t together right? What did the Sheriff say?”

 

Melissa looks sternly at Scott. “A relationship can mean a friendship, Scott. Don’t you dare be upset that Stiles has found a close friendship with Derek Hale. Both those boys need as much love and support as they can get. The Sheriff likes Derek just fine. So you be nice to Derek, or so help me!”

 

“Okay! Okay, mom. I get it.”

 

“Good. Now go think about what we've talked about, but be quiet about it because I need my sleep.”

 

Melissa walks out of the kitchen and places another kiss on her son’s forehead before she wearily makes her way up the stairs to her bedroom.

 

Scott groans, slumping over letting his head hit the counter.


	5. The Next Day (Part Two) - Derek Uses His Key

Derek arrives at the Stilinski home at 10 am the next day. The driveway is free of cars, so Derek pulls the Camaro into Stiles’ spot.

 

Derek exits the car and inhales deeply through his nose, the lingering scent of the Stilinski’s in the air. He smiles to himself as he reaches into the car pulling out a notebook and pen.

 

Starting at the front of the property, Derek walks around looking at the exterior of the house and gardens, taking extensive notes. Once complete, Derek uses his key that Stiles gave him the night before, to let himself into the house.

 

The air is still, the scent of breakfast, the Sheriff’s weapon, and Stiles’ ADHD medication hangs in the air. Just like the exterior of the house, Derek goes through each room making notes on what needs to be done. He leaves the Sheriff’s bedroom alone, waiting until he can ask for permission to enter later.

 

Derek looks at the upstairs bathroom, and the spare bedroom, leaving Stiles’ room for last. He slowly opens the door to Stiles’ room and is hit with a wall of scent that is pure, unadulterated Stiles. Derek stumbles back, trying to get his breathing under control, surprised to find he’s wolfed out. He takes another step back to try and settle down, willing his claws to retract, and his eyebrows to reappear.

 

He takes a fortifying breath before he re-enters Stiles’ room, looking around and continuing his notes. Derek’s eyes keep drifting towards Stiles’ bed. The messily made bed seems to beckon to Derek, his eyes looking at the comfortable pillows, his nose inhaling the thick essence of the boy. Derek’s wolf is wanting to roll around in the sheets, burying himself under the covers, and mingling their scents together. 

 

Derek forces himself to complete his notes and backs out of the room, closing the door firmly in front of him. He backs into the wall behind him, sliding down until he’s seated on the floor.

 

“What on earth was that? What’s happening to me?”

 

He closes his eyes and tries to calm his heart, the urge to roll around on Stiles’ behind receding. With a relieved exhale, he gets up from the floor and makes his way back down the stairs to sit at the dining table.

 

Derek turns to a new page in his notebook and starts writing a list of things he needs to buy from the hardware store. Remembering he will need tools as well, he pulls out his cell phone.

 

**Hey Stiles, what tools do you guys have?**

 

While he waits for a response, he continues with his list for the hardware store, limiting what he needs to complete the outside area and exterior of the house first. He finishes that list and turns the page to write a grocery list. He’s in the mood for his mother’s moussaka recipe, and after the last few nights of being fed by the Stilinski's, Derek wants to return the favour. 

 

Derek is halfway through writing the list of vegetables he needs when Stiles replies.

 

**_Hey Derek! I have no idea, to be honest. Sorry :( But what we do have is in the garage. You can use the same key for the front door to get in._ **

 

**Thanks, Stiles :) How’s your day going?**

 

**_Shit. Mr Harris has given me detention for something someone else did. He’s such an asshole. Do you think you can tell dad I’ll be late home? He’s got an appointment with his doctor today so he’ll be home early. You can stay for dinner too if you like!_ **

 

Derek smiles.

 

**Actually, I was planning to cook for you and your dad tonight if that’s ok?**

 

Derek watches as the speech bubbles appear and disappear a few times, Stiles obviously typing then deleting his response.

 

**_DUDE. You cook?_ **

 

**I sure do. I’ll tell you all about it when you get home tonight.**

 

**_Ok! Gotta go Derek. See you later!_ **

 

**Bye Stiles :)**

 

Derek sighs, smile still wide as he completes his grocery list. Once done, he pulls out both shopping lists from the notebook and stashes them in his pocket. He has a quick look in the garage, surprised to see it looks in order. The Stilinski’s appear to have most of the equipment needed to complete the outside of the house, garden implements stacked neatly against the wall, paint rollers and brushes placed neatly on the shelf, various power tools clean and stored on shelves.

 

He pulls out the hardware store list and adds nail gun and nails to the list, and exits the garage, locking the door behind him, and continues out the front door to the Camaro, making sure that door is also locked tight.

 

First stop? The hardware store.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day?? What is this madness???


	6. The Next Day (Part Three) - An Unexpected Ally

Stiles is sitting alone at his table in the cafeteria when a tray is plonked opposite him.

 

“Sitting here all by yourself Stilinski?”

 

Stiles looks up to address the distinctly feminine voice. “I don’t know what you mean Martin, I’m surrounded by all my friends”. Stiles opening his arms and gesturing to the empty table.

 

Lydia huffs. “Very funny Stiles.” She sits down opposite him at the table and arranges her tray just so.

 

Stiles watches this in confusion, fork loaded with flavourless mac and cheese paused in front of his mouth. He puts the fork down, the pasta tumbling off the utensil.

 

“Not that I’m not happy to see you Lyds, but why are you sitting with me? Isn’t your pack over there?”

 

He points to the pack table where the noticeably Scott-less betas are sitting glaring at Stiles and Lydia.

 

Lydia grimaces. “They are not my pack. I didn’t agree with having a half-wit for an alpha. Speaking of which, any idea why Alpha McCall isn’t here today?”

 

“Might be because we had a fight yesterday and I ended our friendship, and he’s probably at home with his tail between his legs. Honestly, I don’t know, nor do I care. He’s not my problem anymore. I’ve got bigger things to worry about.”

 

Lydia takes a bite of her sandwich and looks contemplatively at Stiles. “Do you mean your move? Or college related worries?”

 

“You know about the move huh?”

 

“I do. I saw the house write up in the paper. I think it’s really good that you and your dad are leaving town. I think it will be good for both of you.”

 

Stiles looks at Lydia in shock. “Really?”

 

“Of course Stiles. Anyone with half a brain knows how difficult it’s been for you both. What with your mom, your dad’s health scare, not to mention the long hours he works and how dangerous it can be. Then there’s the whole supernatural aspect that has caused more trouble, particularly for you. Do you know where you’re moving to yet?”

 

Stiles nods, mouth full of meatloaf. He swallows quickly. “Yeah, we’re going to Boston. I got into MIT.”

 

Lydia’s face lights up. “Stiles! I’m so proud of you! That’s amazing!”

 

A blush creeps over Stiles’ cheeks at the praise. A year ago Stiles’ heart would have fluttered, but now he’s pleased that someone is genuinely happy for him.

 

“I’m really happy Lyds. What’s even better is that dad got a job with the Boston Police Academy. The first 9-to-5 job of his life. This move will be better for both of us. What about you? Do you know where you’re going yet?”

 

Lydia puts her sandwich down and wipes her fingers on her napkin. “I don’t know yet. I have a few options, MIT is one, Harvard is another. I just don’t know what I want to do.”

 

“That’s not like you to be so indecisive Lyds. What’s going on?”

 

“I’ve been talking to Cora. I made a comment about wanting to see the world first and she filled my head with travel stories. I’m thinking about taking a gap year.”

 

“Honestly? That sounds wonderful. You’ve been through just as much as me Lydia, you deserve a break. Would you go travelling with Cora?”

 

“I think so. Maybe. I don’t know. I mean, South America would be as good a place to start as any. Maybe I could convince her to come with me? I just picture my mother freaking out about it though.”

 

Stiles nods. “Yeah, she might. But who are you living your life for, you? Or your mom?”

 

“You make a valid point.”

 

“You’re not the only option for this year’s valedictorian you know.”

 

Lydia laughs, then picks up her sandwich to continue eating, both of them eating in silence.

 

Stiles finishes his lunch first, pushing his tray to the side.

 

“You know, you’ll have to visit us in Boston on your travels. We’ll have a spare room for you, and probably for Cora as well. You can scope the joint, see maybe if you want to go to school there once you’ve finished your galavanting.”

 

“You seem certain that I’ll be travelling.”

 

Stiles shrugs. “It just makes sense. And I really think it will be good for you to have a break from using that massive brain of yours.”

 

“Oh stop Stiles. Being a sycophant is not your style.”

 

Stiles laughs loudly and brightly, drawing the attention of other students, including the pack table who go back to glaring at Stiles and Lydia.

 

Lydia rolls her eyes. “I heard Harris gave you another detention. What did you do this time?”

 

“I didn’t do anything. Greenburg did, but being the raging dick that he is, Harris gave the detention to me implying that it was somehow my fault anyway. I will not miss that prick.”

 

“No one will. He’s a terrible teacher.”

 

Stiles snorts, standing up to take his tray to the dirty tray area, and to throw out his garbage. Once done, he sits back down. He pulls out his phone to check his socials, only to see a message from Derek sent an hour and a half earlier. It’s a selfie, a wide-eyed Derek with the Home Depot logo behind him. 

 

Stiles chuckles and sends a reply.

 

**Did you make it out of Home Depot alive? Or are you wandering aimlessly in the paint aisle? Do I need to get dad to send in S.W.A.T.?**

 

Lydia looks at Stiles curiously. “Who are you messaging Stiles? You’re smiling. And you’re blushing!”

 

Stiles pulls the phone to his chest, hiding the screen from view. “I am not!”

 

“You really are! Are you seeing someone?”

 

“NO. I’m not.”

 

Lydia furrows her eyebrows. “Why would you say it like that?”

 

Stiles sighs. “I’m not seeing anyone. But I don’t really want to talk about it here with the eavesdropping brigade over there in earshot.”

 

Lydia nods. “That’s fair.”

 

Stiles looks at Lydia, who is looking at him with mild concern. He opens up the message from Derek and shows Lydia the photo. Her eyes widen.

 

“Really? What’s going on?”

 

“Nothing. Nothing really. Well, it’s complicated. Ugh. It’s not COMPLICATED complicated but he offered to help get the house ready for sale, and mydadmayhaveinvitedhimtomovewithus.”

 

Lydia starts to laugh. “What was that last bit?”

 

Stiles leans forward and angry whispers. “Dad may have invited him to move with us!”

 

Lydia gasps. “Really? Are you sure there’s nothing going on?”

 

“Yes!! I’m sure!!”

 

“Do you want there to be?”

 

Stiles goes to answer the first thing that wants to fly out of his mouth, which is NO. Stiles sits back in his chair, stunned at the thoughts flooding his head.  _ Do I? Do I want there to be something going on with Derek? OMG, I THINK I DO. _

 

Before Stiles can really panic his phone pings with another message. It’s another selfie, Derek standing in front of the Stilinski house, eyes smiling. He looks up at Lydia who is waiting for a response.

 

“I think I do Lyds. I think I do.”

 

"Is he going to move with you guys?"

 

"He hasn't confirmed that yet. We've still got some time before we go, so he's still got time to think about it."

 

"Do you want him to move with you?"

 

Stiles sighs, then nods slowly. "I do. Even if nothing were to happen, he's been a good friend. Even when we weren't friends as such, we still had each other's backs. He's been really supportive with the how Scott thing. Plus he gets on well with my dad."

 

Lydia screws up the rest of her lunch and pushes the tray away. She opens her bottle of water and takes a delicate sip. "Beacon Hills hasn't been good to him either. Leaving would benefit him too I should think."

 

"I think so too. But it's a decision he needs to make on his own, without anyone trying to sway him. I would hate to think that he felt like he had to come with us if we were to start something you know?"

 

Lydia smiles. "I know. I think he'll realise that he needs the Stilinski's as much as you two seem to need him."

 

The bell sounds, signifying the end of lunch. Lydia and Stiles get up from their seats, Lydia grabbing her tray and putting it away, Stiles grabbing his bag and swinging it over his shoulder. He picks up Lydia's things as well, meeting her on the way out of the cafeteria, handing Lydia her belongings.

 

"Thanks for the chat, Lydia. And for keeping me company. I really appreciate it."

 

"Anytime. Same time tomorrow?"

 

"Yeah. I'd like that." 

 

Lydia waves as she goes into her class, Stiles walking to his locker to switch out his textbooks. He pulls out his phone, sending a quick response to Derek's text.

 

**Good to see you made it out alive. I was getting used to seeing you at home every day.**

 

A response comes almost instantly.

 

_**It was touch and go for a minute, but I did it.** _

 

**I'm glad :) I have some news, Lydia sat with me at lunch today. Had some interesting things to say. I'll tell you all about it tonight.**

 

_**Yeah? That's good, I hated that you were sitting alone. I look forward to hearing all about it.** _

 

**See you after my detention! I'll message you when I'm on my way home.**

 

Derek responds with an emoji, eliciting a snort from Stiles. He quickly shoves his phone in his pocket as the second bell rings, sliding into the classroom as his teacher is shutting the door. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick thank you to all those reading and commenting on every chapter. It makes me feel so good to know that you're enjoying it and taking the time to comment.
> 
> THANK YOU <3

**Author's Note:**

> Had an idea for this a few days ago, and thought I'd start writing! Here's hoping my writing mojo remains!


End file.
